


Silence, Serving Your Need

by SeraDomiCher



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: "Fun" Filler With Bookends Of Plot, Angst, F/M, It's Like Stardust Crusaders, Post-Game (Spoilers Inbound), Road-Trip Baby!, she's dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-01-31 00:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21437038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraDomiCher/pseuds/SeraDomiCher
Summary: Even after the Last Gift and the new age of plenty it brought about, Rex is unable to look past his grief. Nia comes with the perfect plan: A continental camping trip, forcing Rex to feast his eyes on all that they (indirectly) brought into being.
Relationships: Nia/Rex (Xenoblade Chronicles 2)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. To Escape, To Think Without Thinking

The hardest thing about death is forgetting. 

An existence of isolation and near-nonexistence, summed up in one presumptuous sentence. 

It didn’t know if it had ever “lived”, nor did it truly know what “living” was. It only hoped that it once resided in a space that wasn’t this, that had things other than her- 

_Her_. That was new. A descriptive. Something _she_ could use to describe her_self_. 

Did she even have a self to describe? She had to, lest she deny her own existence, as bland as it had been. 

Where did this new knowledge of self arisen from? There was nothing to distinguish herself from, nothing other than herself to compare and discern herself with. There was only her and the nothingness. Where had this concept of “she” come from? 

A new sensation entered her thoughts, a rush of activity within her, going faster than she could handle. Was there something else here that gave this to her? A creator? Another like her, trapped in this nothingness for some unknown purpose? Did it arise from some form of self-growth? A random noise that she decided to use to describe herself? What was this thing she used to describe herself, what was it what can it possibly be why can’t she figure it out it was herself that made it how could she _why-_

She was knocked out _out what is out out _of her thoughts by a new sensation wrapping itself around her _how am i limited how is there something bigger than me_, a warmth _what is warmth what is this _that seeped into her skin _what are you what are you doing_, giving _you are not me how are you changing me_ her a sense _what are you please tell me_ of comfort _you lie this is stop stop stopstopstopstopSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP-_

_It_ stopped, as suddenly as _it_ had started. 

* * *

Rex sat down at the table, cup of coffee in hand. It was the same coffee, made the same way, as the coffee he made the morning after Elysium had come into existence. Back then, though, he had drunk it to wake his body up with his mind, running wild with hope and longing for… something. He had never decided what. 

Now? It was pure routine. He would get out of bed, make his cup of coffee, sit at the table on the opposite side of Nia’s seat, go out and work himself to the point of exhaustion on anything he could think of (having a break and a meal, if there wasn’t enough to do), come back, have dinner, and go to bed. Rinse and repeat the next day, until he died. 

He sipped slowly, staring at nothing in particular. He could hear Nia’s spoon clink against her bowl, probably filled with some vegetable soup that she made from the new greens that had sprung up along the Elysian coastline. He had noticed that she had conjured up a love of cooking ever since Elysium and the World Tree’s collapse and Py- 

_Nope_, nope nope still too raw. 

He held his mug tighter, hoping the ache it put in his fingers would crowd out the feeling swelling up in his throat. Nia glanced up at his white-knuckle grip and let out the same sigh she had used every time he had done this. “Rex…” 

“What?” he replied, perhaps a little too harshly. Not that she shouldn’t be used to that already. 

Nia pursed her lips and dropped her spoon in the soup, letting it clatter along the lip of the bowl. “Get your stuff,” she spat out as she pushed herself up and out of her chair. “We’re going out.” 

Rex set his mug down and stared at her with a surprise tinged with sadness seemingly dripping from his gaze as she went to the hallway connecting the kitchen to the bedrooms. “Wha-where are we going?” 

“Anywhere but this damn island,” she replied tersely, not bothering to turn around. 

Rex motioned out the window with his arm, indicating the buildings being constructed outside. “Nia, we’re still rebuilding the houses. There’s so much left to do, we can’t just run off-” 

“_Rex_.” Nia stopped just short of the hallway and faced him. “It’s been six months. Everyone else has moved on, and you’re still here, in the same place you were when Pyra-” She caught herself, seeing the hurt expression on his face. “Since Elysium was made. Everyone else has gone off to have a grand old time in the new world, and you’re still here working yourself to death.” 

Rex was stunned. What was he supposed to do? There was still so much of Fonsett that needs to be repaired. The villagers still didn’t have places to live here, not to mention rebuilding the merchant stalls. He hadn’t even started on the bridge to the mainland! How could she even think about leaving!? 

“But where will the villagers go?” Rex pleaded. “They’re still waiting on the coast for us, we- _I _need to finish this for them!” 

“Wha-” Nia dropped her jaw and pointed out the window. “Have you not seen the coastline?! They’re living there now! They don’t need any of this! You’re living a lie, Rex, and I can’t keep sitting around and watching you kill yourself for it!” 

Oh Architect, he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Is this what he had done? Had he truly never noticed how he made her, the only person who cared enough to stay up here with him, feel? He can’t leave so she’s going off on her own he’ll be alone up here he’s gonna die up here and no-one will come back he’ll be with- 

“Rex.” 

-no he can’t be it can’t be she’s not here she has to be there’s still so much he has to do to say to be but it can’t happen it’ll never happen it ended the tree fell _she’s gone_\- 

“_Rex_.” 

A warm, slightly wet sensation on his cheek snapped him out of his depressive spiral. He looked up, and saw that Nia had moved to kneel beside him, putting one hand on his in his lap, and the other on his cheek, channeling a small amount of ether. She kept her slips slightly pursed in an attempt to keep him from noticing their quivering. “Rex.” She couldn’t do the same for her voice. “We need to go.” 

Rex took a moment to steady his own emotions, though he was unable to tell if it was him or Nia’s ether doing the steadying. 

“Okay.” 


	2. Will You Cry Tomorrow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She gets a name.  
Nia gets introspective.

She had to take a moment to gather herself. Whatever had just happened, _it_ was completely overwhelming. In a single action, her whole view of _everything_ had been _changed_.

Change. It had changed her. _It_ had completely bypassed any barrier that could possibly exist between them, and entered her without notice and done things to her that she couldn’t possibly understand, and left just as suddenly as _it_ came. How could _it_? What gave _it_ the power to affect such change within her? 

A new feeling arose inside of her, though it wasn’t really a feeling like the _warmth _(at least, that’s what she thought it was called) _it_ had given her. It was… it was a drive, a need, she realized, a true _need _for _it_, to figure out what _it _was, to know _it _and how _it_ had changed her so. 

But where was _it_? All this time she thought that she was the only thing in this space, and thus took up the entirety of it. But now she was presented with the existence of another thing, and she had no idea how to get to _it_. She didn’t know how to _move_ like _it _did. She didn’t know how to move at all! 

So she had to try. She tried to will herself to move through the space, even though she didn’t know how to tell if she was moving in the first place. But all she had was will, so will was what she did. 

Slowly but surely, she felt a change in the space around her. It seemed to undulate around her, pushing and contorting her. She tried to push the sensations enveloping her out of her thoughts, to focus on sensing where _it _had gone. The more she willed herself to move, the more her surroundings shifted and changed and prodded and bent and left her disoriented. She didn’t quite like how it felt, but she had to keep moving if she was going to find answers. 

It didn’t take her long to find _it_. After a time of moving (though she was still unsure of what exactly was being moved), she came to a part of space that didn’t want to contort her as they moved past each-other. She felt that _it _was here, she felt the same warmth that marked _its_ presence, but she wasn’t able to feel _it _itself. 

She sensed something else there, between her and _it_. This _other it_ felt… similar to _it_, had a semblance of the warmth, but _other it_s warmth was lesser, like it was an aftereffect rather than the primary effect. The essence of _other it_ was something else, something she didn’t have- 

_Hello._

_Other it_s voice was like nothing she had ever sensed. It was rich with meaning and true warmth, and flowed around her in sharp contrast to the harshness of space. All she could do was stop and wonder at the fantastic phenomenon that was unfolding in front of her. 

_Can you hear me?_

She… she didn’t know how to respond. How could she possibly replicate the wondrous feeling that _other it_ was imparting onto her? She could never do it justice, she could hardly even try! 

_yes_

_Good. Do you have a name?_

_...name?_

_Yes, a name. What do you call yourself?_

_i. me. what is name?_

_Well, you have a sense of self, so we’re on the right track there. A name is a… how do I word this… a name is a word or phrase that someone uses to refer to themselves, and that other people use to refer to them._

_…_

_Did you understand that?_

_maybe_

_Well, if you have any questions, feel free to ask. What do you want your name to be?_

_do not know. do not know what words or phrases mean._

_Hmm. That is a conundrum. For now, let’s call you N. How does that sound?_

_fine._

_Good! And you can call me… M. And that there behind- er, on the other side of me, is P._

* * *

Nia paced back and forth impatiently in front of the packs of camping gear she had already brought out to the beach. Her hands absentmindedly fidgeted with each-other behind her back as she muttered to herself. “What the hell is he doing, he should’ve been here thirty minutes ago...and bloody Gramps is…” 

She looked up and scanned the horizon with her eyes. “Where the hell is Gramps?” 

Dromarch opened one eye to look at Nia, not even bothering to uncurl from his comfortable position by the packs. “My lady, he said he would be here around mid-day, and it’s only an hour past breakfast time. You can’t expect him to rush about according to your whim.” 

Nia let out a quiet growl behind clenched teeth. “Ten o’clock is mid-day enough for everyone else, why should he be any different?” She glanced back towards what she assumed was the general direction of the village, and, not catching sight of Rex, let out a loud sigh of frustration. “Stay here, Dromarch. I need to see what His Royal Slowness is doing,” she said as she started trudging back up the beach. 

Beneath her facade of frustration, Nia recognized that her mind was tying itself in knots with worry. This was supposed to be her (or, rather, _their_) way of getting out of here on with their lives after staying on this bloody island for far too long, and what does he do but drag his feet all the way there?! Rex _needs _this! Rex _needs _to get out of his head out of his grief-stricken arse and move on. Gah, it was fucking astounding how blind and dense and just oblivious that boy could be! 

An uncharacteristic thought wormed its way into her brain: _He isn’t doing as bad as Lord Echell. _Yes, she thought, that is true, but the situation her “father” (she used this in the loosest possible definition of the word) forced himself into was a whole other world compared to Rex’s grief. For one, Lord Echell did bring that trouble down on himself. She couldn’t comprehend the possibility that Rex _wanted_ to be miserable and grieving. 

_He only wanted to save his daughter. He didn’t want to lose yo-_

_Everything, he didn’t want to lose everything. Just tell me what you mean, conscience, then buzz off._

_Perhaps Rex deserves a little Mercy? _

_Wha- Mercy?! He has gotten more than enough _Mercy _from me, thank you very much! Mercy was me staying here with him all this time! Mercy was me suffering him working himself to the bone day in and day out and not crying my heart out every day when he comes back and collapses on his bed! Mercy is me not knocking him out cold and dragging him to Elysium myself! I’m done with Mercy, I’m done with waiting, I’m done with all of this!_

_And what else do you have once Mercy is abandoned, but Judgement. Where did Judgement get you when your sister died? Out on the street and on the run. Where did Judgement get you when Rex died? Into a mess of unrequited love and pain. Where did Judgement get you when Niall died? Into a new mess of lies and anguish. Where did Judgement get Amalthus, and Jin, and Malos, and Mythra, and all those who thought they knew what was best? Into their graves, along with all of the innocents they massacred. Where do you think Judgement will get you now? _

Nia trudged on through the grasslands and past her ever-unhelpful conscience. Did it not think she knew what had happened in her own life? Gah, what was the point. She was always running from something, might as well continue the theme. 

She was brought back into reality by what sounded like a few pots or pans falling to the ground. Her head and ears bolted to attention, scanning for the source of the sound. Who, she thought, would be carrying pa- 

Out in the distance was Rex, fallen over and pinned down under his camping pack. His torso and head seemed to be crushed under the bag, with his arms and legs trying to lift him up. 

“REX!” Nia cried. She sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her over to his side. Nearly tripping herself as she tried to stop and not crash into Rex, she caught herself on the pack, then worked her hands down until they reached the relative underside of the pack. 

“Ok Nia, you got this,” she panted to herself as she got her footing stable under her. With a massive grunt and no small amount of sweating, she heaved the pack onto its side and moved out of the way as Rex fell free of the straps. Nia gave the pack one last push with one hand to make sure it wouldn’t fall back on top of them as she rolled Rex over with the other. 

She put one hand on Rex’s chest and another on the side of his head, channeling ether through both in an attempt to ease the wheezing in his chest and the swelling of the bruise that had appeared on his face. She could feel herself trembling, though she couldn’t tell if it was from adrenaline or fear or some proportion of both. 

“Rex, what the hell did you put in that pack?” Nia asked after a moment of quiet, when Rex’s wheezing had subsided sufficiently. 

Rex glanced towards the pack, moving his head as much as he could while still keeping Nia’s hand on the bruise. “Well, I put the camp-fire pots in, and the fire-starting kits, and our sleeping bags, and my tent, and a couple pads to lay on the rougher ground, and… I’m sure there was more, I just can’t remember.” 

Nia’s eyes got wider and wider as Rex kept talking. “The camp-fire pots should have been their own pack! The sleeping bags too!” 

“Nia, it’s fine. I could’ve carried it all there if I hadn’t tripped.” 

“No, Rex, it’s not fine. What the hell would have happened to you if I hadn’t been already looking for you? What would you have done?” 

Rex rolled himself over and pushed himself up onto his feet. “I would have rolled myself over and gotten back up, and continued on. You didn’t have to worry about me, really.” 

Nia held onto his shoulder as he got up. “You can’t keep shouldering the whole load by yourself, Rex. You can ask us for help, really!” 

“Nia, trust me,” Rex said as he heaved the pack onto his shoulder, groaning under the words and the weight. “I can get this myself.” 

“You nearly _died_ not a minute ago, and you still-” 

“_Nia_,” Rex spat back over his shoulder, his voice dripping with irritation. “I’m _fine_.” 

Nia could only stare at Rex as he walked away. 


End file.
